VOLUME I
9. CHAPTER IX
(continued)
"I can't help it," Isabel answered. "I think it's lovely to be so
quiet and reasonable and satisfied. I should like to be like
that."
"Heaven forbid!" cried Ralph with ardour.
"I mean to try and imitate them," said Isabel. "I want very much
to see them at home."
She had this pleasure a few days later, when, with Ralph and his
mother, she drove over to Lockleigh. She found the Misses
Molyneux sitting in a vast drawing-room (she perceived afterwards
it was one of several) in a wilderness of faded chintz; they were
dressed on this occasion in black velveteen. Isabel liked them
even better at home than she had done at Gardencourt, and was
more than ever struck with the fact that they were not morbid. It
had seemed to her before that if they had a fault it was a want
of play of mind; but she presently saw they were capable of deep
emotion. Before luncheon she was alone with them for some time,
on one side of the room, while Lord Warburton, at a distance,
talked to Mrs. Touchett.
"Is it true your brother's such a great radical?" Isabel asked.
She knew it was true, but we have seen that her interest in human
nature was keen, and she had a desire to draw the Misses Molyneux
out.
"Oh dear, yes; he's immensely advanced," said Mildred, the
younger sister.
"At the same time Warburton's very reasonable," Miss Molyneux
observed.
Isabel watched him a moment at the other side of the room; he was
clearly trying hard to make himself agreeable to Mrs. Touchett.
Ralph had met the frank advances of one of the dogs before the
fire that the temperature of an English August, in the ancient
expanses, had not made an impertinence. "Do you suppose your
brother's sincere?" Isabel enquired with a smile.
"Oh, he must be, you know!" Mildred exclaimed quickly, while the
elder sister gazed at our heroine in silence.
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